


Bonnie & Clyde '03

by malibu_island



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bonnie & Clyde, Drug Dealing, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malibu_island/pseuds/malibu_island
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For many years, Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles were one of the most notorious and powerful couples in the black market. When they're ratted out to the cops, they go on the run to Mexico. Can they continue making their fortune or will the law catch up with them?</p><p>Inspired by: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LINbG3eJtu8</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All I need in this life of sin, is me & my boyfriend.

It's just another hot September's day in Los Angeles.

In one of the quiet, further out suburbs of the city, an old lady tends to her garden.

Apart from the occasional car cruising down the street, the neighbourhood is peaceful.

Or it is, until a bright red, vintage car goes speeding past, the engine growling loud enough to drown out the couple in the front seat.

"I'm telling you Lou, I've got a bad feeling about this meeting." The younger of the couple says, flicking his hair out of his face.

"Harry, if I pulled out of a fuckin' deal everytime you had a  _bad feeling_ , we'd be broke." Louis, the older one retors, shoving his sunglasses further up.

"I'm telling you. This guy's  _shady_. We shouldn't be dealing with him." Harry stresses, brow creasing behind his aviators.

"Babe, _I'm_  telling  _you_. Chill the fuck out. This is our last deal then we're done, right? We'll move to Buenos Aires and never pay a single dime to the government ever again."

"Lou, you know I trust you with my life. But Grimshaw warned me, don't fucking touch that Horan dude with a 10 foot pole."

Louis snorts again, shaking his head and turning a corner, "Grimshaw was probably talking about fucking the guy. Not business."

Harry goes silent, giving up. Louis is stubborn, and when he's made his mind up that he's doing a deal with someone, that deal is done.

His boyfriend leans over, squeezing his leg gently.

"Hey. You trust me, yeah?"

"With my life."

Louis doesn't say anything, just pulls the car up to the curb and parks. He leans over the gearstick and kisses Harry, hard.

Harry tastes like that bubblegum fizzy pop he's obsessed with, and the faint hint of a cigar. Louis thinks that the taste describes Harry exactly.

Sweet, innocent and cute at first impression, but search deeper and you'll see the darker, musty, intoxicating side.

When they'd first met, Louis had been a fucking wreck. He'd been made redundant from his job at the warehouse and he was broke, tired and miserable.

All he'd wanted to do was enjoy his whiskey, feel the burn of the liquid down his throat that could make him forget for a few hours.

And  _Harry_ was in the bar. Harry,  _beautiful_ , cute, lovely Harry, had smiled at him from down the bar over his fruit punch cocktail.

 

_"You come here often?"_

_"What's it to you?"_

_"You look lonely."_

_"Not your fucking business, Mr **Fruity Punch."**_

_"This, right here is a liquid masterpiece, Mr Grumpy Whiskey."_

_" **Fuck you**." Louis hisses at the green eyed stranger, clearly intent on ruining his special time with the whiskey._

_"Oh, I'd love to."_

_Louis's eyes shoot up from his glass to catch Harry trailing his eyes up and down Louis's slender body._

_A hot, prickly heat flashes up his spine that Louis thinks has nothing to do with the whiskey._

_Louis downs the rest of his shot and frowns at the boy. Sure, why the fuck not? He's very pretty, and Louis hasn't had sex since he was made redundant months ago._

_"Let me at least buy you a drink first."_

_"I'll have another Fruit Slammer." Fruity Punch smiles, plopping himself down in the seat next to Louis._

_"Hey, Mr Bardude. Another fruit slammer for my friend here-"_

_"Harry." The boy supplies, giggling and sweeps curly strands of hair away from his face._

_"So, **Harry**. How come I never seen you round here before?"_

_Harry studies his pineapple slice before taking a bite of it, "Used to work at this time. Don't anymore."_

_"Oh. Sorry. I know how that feels-"_

_"Don't be-" He pops a cherry into his mouth and chews thoughtfully, avoiding looking at him "-I'm glad it's over."_

_"You didn't like it?"_

_"I didn't **not**  like it. The money was great but-"_

_"Lucky. I wish **I**  could be picky about jobs." Louis mutters sourly, glaring at his shotglass._

_"I'm not being picky. I'd just rather be unemployed than six feet under." Harry says in a neutral tone, and in Louis's whiskey addled brain, it clicks._

_A seedy bar that always empty, the good pay, Harry's shifty behaviour-_

_"Gang work? You don't seem the type to-"_

_"What do you think these Fruit Slammers taste like?" Harry interrupts, waving the empty glass in front of Louis's face._

_Okay. Harry doesn't want to talk about it. He gets that._

_"I don't know." he admits, shrugging_

_"Let me show you." Harry smiles, leaning forward and capturing Louis's mouth with his._

_As he shoves his hands into Harry's hair and pulls him closer, Louis chases the taste of fruit and liqor in Harry's mouth, twisting their tongues together._

_Louis is glad for once, that the seedy bar he frequents is empty except for them. Normally, he hates the empty, stale room, but now, he's really glad that no one can see him and Mr Fruity- Harry making out like horny teenagers._

_"Mr Grumpy Whiskey seems to be **very**  good at kissing." Harry pants, leaning away as the bartender slides the fruit punch towards him and dissappears to the back room._

_Louis makes a mental note to thank him. Or leave a good tip. Are you even supposed to tip bartenders?_

_"It's Louis." He replies, watching captivated as Harry takes the pink straw betweens his kiss darkened lips and sucks._

_Louis thinks he'd really like Harry's lips on his dick. He thinks that's the point Harry's trying to get across._

_The straw makes a crude, loud sound as the last drop of liquid is sucked up._

_Maybe it's the ridiculous amounts of alcohol in his bloodstream right now, but Louis feels very confident as he turns into Harry, sliding a hand under his pineapple print shirt._

_"I hate cliches as much as the next man, but, my place or yours?"_

 

That had been years ago, and while Harry still appeared to most people as a young, innocent boy, Louis knew much better.

For the most part, his boyfriend had never really been an innocent little flower. He hadn't got better at intimidating people either, but that worked.

 _They_  worked. Harry was the sweet talker, the one who convinced the more nervous suppliers to part with the  _really_  good shit. Louis was the no nonsence taker, 'Wassup, wassup motherfucker, where my money at? You gon make me come down to your house where your mommy at?' was his side of the job.

Switching off the engine, Louis glances at Harry.

 "You ready Haz?"

Harry looks over, piercing green eyes, and shoots him a grin.

"Let's go get em." Louis adds, opening the car door.


	2. 'Cos Mami's a Rider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For many years, Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles were one of the most notorious and powerful couples in the black market. When they're ratted out to the cops, they go on the run to Mexico. Can they continue making their fortune or will the law catch up with them?
> 
> Inspired by: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LINbG3eJtu8

They walk up the drive to a set of tall iron wraught gates. Louis presses the buzzer and hands the suitcase to Harry.

"Tomlinson! Thought you'd never show up!" A familiar Irish voice comes through the intercom

"Got a bit delayed. Can you buzz us in?"

The line goes dead as one of the gates starts to open with a groaning noise.

Harry walks into the courtyard, admiring the little white marble fountain, surrounded by plants and flora on all sides.

"C'mon, my little interior designer. You can have orgasms over the archictechture of Horan's house later." Louis chuckles, pulling Harry away from the garden.

Harry tears his eyes away, walking into the reception room with him, "I want a proper garden when we get to Buenos Aires."

"You'll have anything you want." is the reply, and Harry's stomach is filled with butterflies. He's fully aware of how gone he is on Lou, but sometimes Louis will say stuff to Harry that reminds him it's exactly the same.

Niall appears from the doorway, holding a briefcase, "Hello Louis."

"Niall. How's things these days?"

"Busy. Trying to sort everything out so I can lay low for a bit."

Louis frowns, taking a step closer to Niall, "What do you mean, lay low? You're one of the most successful guys in the area-"

"There's this new gang around town. They don't play clean or respect boundaries like we do."

Harry looks at Niall in confusion. Nick had said that Niall was the one not to be trusted. He hadn't mentioned any new guys.

"Have them taken care of. Surely you can afford it-"

"I tried. Can't find anything on them. Even if you were to shoot one, the others are so well infiltrated into the business you'd find everything you own torched within 24 hours."

Louis inhales, "That what happened to Bob Benny? We heard nothing from him for months, then all his clubs go up in flames?"

Niall nods, dropping down on one of the leather sofas, scrubbing his face.

"Yeah. But here's the interesting part, one of them left a can of gasoline at the site. I asked my friend down at the LAPD to send me the results, see who it came to."

"And who supplied them with the gasoline?"

Niall leans forward, pulling open one of the coffee tables draws open. He hands Louis a stack of papers and sits back as Louis starts flicking through them.

"Has this happened to anyone else?" Harry asks, crossing his arms.

"As far as I'm aware of, no."

Louis curses softly, staring at the paper in his hand.

"What's wrong?"

He hands him the papers, as Harry starts to read, Niall explains,

"The report says that the substance used to cause a fire was an unusual one, it's not supplied in many places."

Harry puts the pieces together in his head and looks at Niall, "No." he says, flatly.

"Haz, I get that you trust him. He's been with your family for years. But he's the only person in this city that could have provided them with that stuff."

"They could have got it from another state-"

"Harry." Louis says softly, "They couldn't. I know for a fact it can't be transported by any fluid using vehicle. And Nick's the only person that has access to vehicles that would let him get this stuff to LA."

"Look, Nick doesn't supply chemicals to anyone except my family. I _know_ he doesn't- and how the fuck do I know that those papers aren't bullshit?" Harry spits, and Niall actually takes a step back. Harry's scary when he's pissed off, Louis knows, from first hand experience.

"Harry, I'm just telling you what I know. And what I know is avoid Grimshaw and lay low. For now. Until we know more."

"I agree with you Niall, but I want to know. Why tell us? You could have kept us in the dark about all of this." Louis interjects

Niall stands up and walks to the window, staying silent for a few moments before he speaks, "Cuz I know what getting stabbed in the back feels like. Do you think I moved here because my home was missing opportunities? My parents were robbed and killed by my own cousins because they were ' _in the way_ '. You may not be my family, but you've stopped a lot of hassle from coming my way. The least I can do is warn you about any danger _you_ might be in."

He turns around, looking at them and gestures to Harry's briefcase.

Harry clicks it open, revealing the tiny packets of white powder neatly laid out inside.

"The money's in a briefcase, second draw down."

"Got it."

Louis clicks open the case; it's filled with piles of 100 dollar bills.

"Thanks man. We've gotta be off."

"Yeah." Niall smiles, walking towards them and shaking Louis's hand, "You just remember what I told you?"

"I will, mate."

Harry's just picked up the briefcase full of money when they hear it.

Distant, but fucking impossible to miss.

 _A cop siren_.

"Shit. Fucking _shit_ fuck- you _son of a bitch_! Did you rat us out?!" Harry reaches to hit Niall, only to get dragged back by Louis. The siren is slowly getting nearer as dull panic spreads in Louis's gut.

"Harry- c'mon we have to fucking go!-"

"Of course I fucking didn't! Did you two tell anyone about this meeting?!"

The sirens are approaching, fast. If they don't leave soon there's no way they can make a getaway.

Niall takes one look at Harry, watching the blood drain out of his face.

"Shit. You fucking told Grimshaw, didn't you?!"

"I didn't know!" Harry screams back. Louis grabs the suitcase and Harry's arm, the sirens nearly deafening now.

They run out onto the veranda, Harry practically jumps into the car as Louis slams his foot on the gas. The cops are nearly on them as the car flies out down the road.

In the rearview mirror, Harry notices that none of the three cars have stopped at Niall's house. Louis catches his line of sight and shakes his head, yelling over the loud growl of the engine and sirens, "WASN'T HIM, HAZ! SOMEONE WAS TRYING TO GET _US_ BUSTED."

They pull out onto the freeway, the cop cars getting even closer. Harry leans over and points to a junction. Louis puts more gas on and swerves the car onto the route.

The road Harry's pointed to is one of the best in the country. There's so many tight corners and different streets in this suburb that to lose a pursuer you only have to turn a few times, then floor the fucking gas while you've lost them.

And Louis does exactly that. He turns right, then left, then right again, before pulling out onto a winding road heading south. As soon as they get free of the tight corners, the car speeds up to 80, maybe 90, easy. Harry pulls his shades off to make sure they've lost them as the wailing sirens fading into the distance.

"Shit. That was fucking close." Louis exhales, leaning back in his seat as Harry slides his shade back on.

"Damnit. I fucking liked this car."

He throws back his head, laughing. Only Harry could think of something like having to ditch a car after just escaping twenty years in prison.

"We'll get another one. Somethin' real pretty."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I will answer any and all questions at my tumblr!
> 
> bayonsenoals.tumblr.com/
> 
> :)


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